ll me. You ask me
why I don't join you, and I tell you it's because I don't want to lose
my commonsense."

"You'll know better one o' these days, George," said the skipper,
rising. "I earnestly hope you'll 'ave some great sorrow or affliction,
something almost too great for you to bear. It's the only thing that'll
save you."

"I expect that fat chap what stole my boots would like to see it too,"
said the mate.

"He would," said the skipper solemnly. "He said so."

The mate got up, fuming and knocking his pipe out with great violence
against the side of the schooner, stamped up and down the deck two or
three times, and then, despairing of regaining his accustomed calm on
board, went ashore.

It was late when he returned. A light burnt in the cabin, and the
skipper with his spectacles on was reading aloud from an old number of
the _Evangelical Magazine_ to a thin, white-faced man dressed in black.

"That's my mate," said the skipper, looking up from his book.

"Is he one of our band?" inquired the stranger.

The skipper shook his head despondently.

"Not yet," said the stranger encouragingly.

"Seen too many of 'em," said the mate bluntly. "The more I see of 'em,
the less I like 'em. It makes me feel wicked to look at 'em."

"Ah, that ain't you speaking now, it's the Evil One," said Mr. Hutchins
confidently.

"I s'pose you know 'im pretty well," said the mate simply.

"I lived with him thirty years," said Mr. Hutchins solemnly, "then I got
tired of him."

"I should think he got a bit sick too," said the mate. "Thirty days 'ud
ha' been too long for me."

He went to his berth, to give Mr. Hutchins time to frame a suitable
reply, and returned with a full bottle of whisky and a tumbler, and
having drawn the cork with a refreshing pop, mixed himself a stiff glass
and lit his pipe. Mr. Hutchins with a deep groan gazed reproachfully at
the skipper and shook his head at the bottle.

"You know I don't like you to bring that filthy stuff in the cabin,
George," said the skipper.

"It's not for me," said the mate flippantly. "It's for the Evil One. He
ses the sight of his old pal 'Utchins 'as turned his stomach."

He glanced at the stranger and saw to his astonishment that he appeared
to be struggling with a strong desire to laugh. His lips tightened and
his shifty little eyes watered, but he conquered himself in a moment,
and rising to his feet delivered a striking address in favour of
teetotalism. He condemn